


Insecurities (Sam Drake)

by Angie_Aarnes



Category: Sam drake - Fandom, Uncharted 4 - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Sam Drake - Freeform, Uncharted 4, uncharted - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 10:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angie_Aarnes/pseuds/Angie_Aarnes
Summary: There's a Rafe Adler version of this too!





	Insecurities (Sam Drake)

I stare at the margarita in front of me before taking another sip, tasting the cocktail mixed with sugar on the rim of the margarita glass. Light chattering is spread across the bar along with light music—not a busy night tonight.

An hour ago, I was enjoying dinner with an old friend from college and now I’m in a bar, helpless and lost in thought. My old friend and I bumped into each other earlier on in the day while I was on the bus to work and asked for a dinner in which he meant as a date.

He said he was single, but I should have known that not everybody changes after years graduating from college; he was still the party, playboy I’ve ever known.

“You know, you’re really beautiful.” He remarked, looking deeply into my eyes as I blushed and smiled. “Not like the women I’ve slept with before, but you’re my type.” He smirked and that was when my smile faded. What kind of idiotic person would say that? I couldn’t believe myself that I agreed on a date with him. That was when all my insecurities came back and I haven’t felt that miserable in a long time. It was like, this happiness bubble bursting around me and now I feel like falling from my floating wonderland.

Luckily, he was caught red-handed by his girlfriend who happened to be having dinner with her parents.

After listening to her screaming while others shushed and listened, apparently, it wasn’t me who was the first girl she caught him cheating with, but with other women over the course of their two year relationship.

It was a total racket but I managed to successfully duck out of the restaurant and to the safety of the streets, feeling like a drink on a Friday night would finish the day and make up what had happened.

A deep voice cuts me out of my thoughts and I look to my right to see a rather good-looking, middle-aged man ordering a beer and adjusting himself on his stool. I take another sip of my margarita, looking at the television placed right in front of me and in between shelves of liquor bottles.

It’s a music video from Nicki Minaj, showing off her thick body by dressing with almost nothing on and dirty dancing with back-up dancers.

A group of young men not so far from my left all cheer and whistle, biting their lower lip as Nicki Minaj twerks that I cannot help but to roll my eyes at them.

It’s times like these where I question my appearance, thinking if I should be thick and have an hourglass figure just to be accepted and be drooled at by countless of men. I was considered skinny during my middle and high school years and thinking about that now only makes me feel less comfortable in my own skin.

“Shame, isn’t it?” The man on my right cuts me again from my thoughts, turning in his seat to face me and I look at him with an eye-brow raised, thinking that he might have read my mind.

“Yeah, it puts us to shame, really—girls and women, I mean.” I point at the television and he chuckles, taking a drink of his beer.

He shakes his head, “What the modern day has become.”

I stare at him blankly, pushing my brows in question. He obviously hasn’t caught up with the times, but that’s what usual guys in his age are, right? Unless he’s spent time in prison for so long that he’s lost connection of the modern world.

“Anyway, I’m Sam.” He lends out a hand that I kindly take into mine, feeling his strong hold that I wasn’t quite ready for.

I tell him my name in return in which he replies with, “A beautiful girl with a beautiful name.”

I scoff, taking another sip of my drink. “Well, I don’t know about that.”

From the corner of my eyes, he’s slightly smirking at my reply as he takes a swig out of his beer. “Insecure now, are we?”

After that remark, I stare at the TV screen as the music video is about to end, thinking of nothing else but the past years of my life. I had been conscious about my thin arms and legs and how weak they were compared to the other girls in my class. No matter how much I tried to gain weight; no matter how much I eat, I still ended up being the same ratchet self.

Memories of me crying in bed, endless tears flowing down my cheeks. I remember that day like it was yesterday: that was when I was bullied for my looks, made fun at in the hallways—I can’t imagine a more horrific time in my life than that. I was only ten and it was something no ten-year-olds should go through.

“Listen,” Sam’s voice makes me flinch in my seat as he moves closer to me that I can start to smell the beer in his breath. “Listen to me really carefully: you are beautiful and those people who says other-wise… Well, fuck them.”

Looking into his eyes, they are the color of dark green and almost immediately I feel warm and cozy inside. As a stranger, I almost feel like I can spill every little detail about myself, but I have enough control not to.

I lean back in my seat, looking away from his eyes. “A simple ‘fuck you’ won’t solve anything.” I reply as I feel the heart in my chest burning like it did when I was younger. People just don’t understand; they just don’t know how I really feel.

“Yeah, but not overcoming that little voice in your head telling you that you’re ugly won’t solve anything anything either,” he shrugs, “I was only trying to help.”

A pang of guilt hits me as I hear those words. I’ve heard them once, from a friend of mine back in high school, but what did she know? She was the most beautiful girl in school and I’d kill someone just to be her.

But I’m not.

“Women like you shouldn’t feel insecure.” He remarks one more time and that sudden realization hits me.

“Are you trying to get in my pants?”

He smirks, “That and you looked like you needed someone to talk to.”

“Looks like we both do…” I mumble, judging from how worn down he looks: wrinkled shirt, bandaged arm, sleeked back hair, shining from the grease. Disgusting, but we all have our days.

Thinking back to what he had said, I guess I shouldn’t be too harsh on myself. There are people who are born luckier, but what’s the point if we all looked perfect? Like the Ken and Barbie dolls we used to play when we were younger.

That night, I started to feel more comfortable and felt like I met a miracle than a stranger. Years I’ve been feeling like this, torturing me slowly each day, but he somehow managed to change my mind.


End file.
